


who could ever leave me? (but who could stay)

by loveletterd



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Established Relationship, Falling Out of Love, Implied Sexual Content, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, Memories, Sad Ending, Teenage Rebellion, Unrequited Love, soft but also really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 17:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveletterd/pseuds/loveletterd
Summary: donghyuck remembers all of the things he used to love about mark.





	who could ever leave me? (but who could stay)

Donghyuck has always been someone who finds joy in pleasing people. More specifically, in pleasing Mark Lee, the soft spoken, dark haired boy who always came to class late smelling of coffee and vanilla. The boy whose eyes were always so wide with wonder and whose hands seemed to never stop shaking.

Donghyuck found the timidness of the boy so intriguing, and he would watch the way he kept his head ducked down and fumbled with the patterned pens he held, clicking them against the desk rhythmically. He remembers always wanting to hold his hands, to encase his long, trembly fingers and feel them curl around his, settling his nerves for even just a moment.

But that was when Donghyuck was seventeen. Now as Mark's hands drum nervously on the steering wheel, a dull pattering in an otherwise quiet car, he wants nothing more than to break his fingers.

"Could you quit that?" He snaps impatiently, making the boy freeze and jerk his head over to look at Donghyuck in the passenger seat.

He smiles sheepishly, not quite sensing the boy's annoyance, and says, "Sorry. It's just-this light is taking forever, don't you think?"

Donghyuck shrugs in response, switching his focus to the empty road in front of them, streetlights casting a dull orange glow on the pavement. The light is stuck an overbearing red, and he doesn't know how much longer he can sit and listen to Mark's tapping. He knows it's not his fault, the reflex has been a part of him for as long as Donghyuck has known him, but the irritation that it sends through his blood tonight is enough to throw all of his reason out the rolled-down car window.

"Stop tapping!" He nearly shouts just as the light switches to green, and he hears the boy clear his throat awkwardly as he begins to drive again, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly it turns his knuckles white.

"Maybe we should stop for a while." Mark's voice is cautious for good reason, and he turns a corner to reveal yet another quiet street. "It's late, you seem tired. There's a motel just up here."

"Sure, whatever," Donghyuck mumbles back, leaning against the door and letting out a slow sigh. He doesn't know where they are, but that's a common occurrence with Mark Lee who has always preferred a dreamy sense of adventure over logic and sound reasoning.

Donghyuck used to love his drive to explore the unknown. He would find himself waking up in the middle of the night to tapping at his bedroom window, and would open it to come face to face with a mischievously grinning Mark, who was always dressed too lightly for the late-night temperatures. He remembers the way the boy would hoist himself up onto his windowsill and sit there watching as Donghyuck changed into proper clothes that weren't patterned pyjama bottoms, always so eager to go out with the boy.

He would take him all over the city, showing him things he never knew existed; like 24-hour restaurants, rooftop gardens, and locked up community swimming pools. Every location resulted in a souvenir being presented to him as a gift, and Donghyuck would clutch the flower, or the menu, or the pretty, multi-coloured rock in his palm until he got home so he could put them all in a drawer and keep them as long as possible.

Mark always had bold ideas of ways to explore, and when they graduated high school the prospect of running away suddenly wasn't so unattainable. Donghyuck remembers the rush he felt when he packed up all of those gifts into a little wooden box and Mark stuffed them with his other belongs into the back of his old blue car. He remembers leaning over the windowsill to catch the boy in a slow, promise filled kiss before being pulled out of the window, leaving groggy and confused parents calling for him from behind his closed bedroom door.

Donghyuck has slowly begun to wish that he had listened to them a little better.

That was the first time Mark had convinced him to run away, but it certainly wasn't the last. As of now, the little wooden box sits in the back seat of the same blue car, but Donghyuck has lost count of how many impulsive adventures Mark has dragged him on, bringing him from apartment to apartment, town to town.

Donghyuck always followed like a lost puppy, but it seems Mark was the lost one the whole time, physically unable to rest until he found the place that felt like home. Apparently, he has yet to locate it.

"You wait here, I'll go grab a room," Mark instructs as he pulls into the parking lot of a nearly vacant motel, the dull buzzing of flickery lights invading the car.

He doesn't respond, just shuts his eyes and listens as fast footsteps fade away. Donghyuck doesn't know how long they've been driving in a seemingly aimless fashion, but Mark was right: he is tired. He's so exhausted and he takes a moment to consider that a good rest and a bed instead of the hard seat of Mark's car might do him some good and make the odd, empty feeling in his chest go away.

He considers the idea that too much time with a person can make you hate them, but he's spent the last three years attached to Mark at the hip and has never felt as tired and irritated with him as he has recently. He thinks he just needs a break and to rest and collect his thoughts, as Mark's plans of yet another runaway have kept him up for weeks.

When he sees the boy advancing towards the car with a key in hand, an absentminded smile on his visibly tired face, Donghyuck lets his lips curl up too.

Mark was always too pretty for his own good. Full and messy dark hair frames his face perfectly no matter, and high cheekbones cast soft shadows across honey skin that's blotted with little red marks. Mark never had to be perfect to be the most beautiful boy Donghyuck had ever seen. He just had to be Mark, who with his obnoxiously loud laugh and those eyes that hold stars, was a dream brought to life.

"Grabbed one on the second floor." He announces when he reaches the car, leaning down and resting his elbows on the rolled-down window. "Wanna go up?"

Donghyuck nods, before proceeding to roll up the windows and force Mark's head out of the opening. He can hear the boy giggling as he swiftly moves out of the way, and as the sound turns muffled when the glass is up Donghyuck curses himself for being so harsh earlier.

He should be making the boy laugh, not yelling at him.

"Should I grab some pyjamas?" Mark asks once Donghyuck has stepped out of the car, slowly twirling the little key around his fingers.

"I don't need any. It's hot as fuck tonight," Donghyuck scowls at the stickiness of the summer air, already making his body feel like it's being suffocated just from standing in the quiet parking lot. "Are they air-conditioned?"

"Yeah. I asked when I was in there." Mark locks the car before nodding for the boy to follow, which he does promptly. "There's only one bed though, you're okay with sharing right?"

Donghyuck furrows his brows and jogs to catch to up with Mark as he heads towards a metal stairway.

"Mark we've been sharing a bed since we met. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

The boy shrugs, refusing to glance at Donghyuck as they begin climbing to the second story of the complex.

"You just seemed a little off tonight. I didn't want to force you to do anything that might....upset you. I don't know."

Donghyuck frowns, bringing his hand up to cup Mark's ear as they try to locate their room. He squeezes the soft skin with his thumb and index finger before rubbing ever so gently and making the boy visibly relax.

"Hey," He says earnestly, voice soft. "I'm okay."

Mark doesn't say anything to that, just shoves the key in the lock in front of them and pushes the door open. The room is dark and smells like too much lemon cleaning product, but Donghyuck appreciates the attempt at hygiene. As the light flickers on he's met with a little white room that's sparsely decorated, a large bed right in the centre.

The duvet is a soft blue in colour, and it begs for Donghyuck's body to launch onto it and finally feel comfortable—so that's exactly what he does.

He races past Mark and immediately flops onto the surprisingly soft mattress, body sinking into a blissful mound of covers.

"Dude," Mark laughs from somewhere in the room. "At least take off your shoes."

Donghyuck grumbles incoherently into the duvet, wiggling his feet that hang off of the edge. Mark seems to get his hint as seconds later he can feel the laces of his high top white sneakers being untied with trembly fingers.

"Why're you still shaking, baby?" Donghyuck mumbles, rolling over once his shoes hit the floor. "Nervous?"

"You always make me nervous," Mark answers with a chuckle, and a strange feeling of guilt begins to bubble in Donghyuck's stomach.

He can't dwell on it as the boy is flopping down next to him and soft fingers are tilting his head to look to the side. His eyes meet Mark's and he swallows hard, forcing himself to close the distance between them to avoid having to look into those big eyes.

Mark's kiss is gentle—it always has been—and it's been one of Donghyuck's favourites parts about the boy since he first discovered it.

Curious and carefree, Donghyuck had kissed plenty of boys by the time he was seventeen, but none of them were as gentle as Mark. They were always so rough, so forceful and full of lust and Donghyuck had never enjoyed kissing all that much until he met Mark, who was sweet in every sense of the word.

He remembers the pair laying there in his bed, legs intertwined as they giggled amongst themselves, Donghyuck fiddling with Mark's fingers to try and stop the boy from seeing how harshly he was blushing. Mark had pulled his hand free once their laughter died down, spreading his fingers over Donghyuck's fiery cheek and tucked his thumb under his bottom lip.

Donghyuck remembers the eruption of butterflies in his stomach as he finally looked up through his lashes and met soft, curious eyes that seemed to sparkle under the Christmas lights strung above the bed.

"What?" He had breathed out, heart thundering against his rib cage nervously.

Mark only chuckled, thumb sliding up to press against his bottom lip lightly. "Can I try something?"

Donghyuck nodded dumbly and before he could even think, warm lips were slotting together with his and making his veins fill with pure liquid sugar.

He swore every time Mark kissed him it tasted sweeter, but now all he seems to taste is dull lip balm and stale coffee. His nose crinkles up but he lets the boy kiss him, lets their lips meld together and his stomach fills to the brim with that same sense of guilt.

Donghyuck doesn't know why everything feels different, but Mark seems to notice too as he pulls away and laughs that always loud laugh, his own nose scrunching up. Donghyuck always loved the way the sound filled a room and his heart, bouncing off every corner and splashing sunshine through his body. Right now it irks him, makes his ears ring and his eyes squeeze shut and he slams his lips against Mark's again just to shut him up.

His knee wedges between Mark's thighs, his head too loud for him to even think straight. Every thought he's having is so conflicting and Donghyuck doesn't understand what he wants or needs at this very moment.

So he settles for what he should want, which is to push Mark onto his back and hoist himself above him, lips moving down his chin to his jaw where he begins to suck a harsh bruise. It earns a mewl from his boyfriend, whose fingers wrap around the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, making Donghyuck's skin sting irritably.

He used to love the feeling of hands gripping and pulling at his hair until it hurt, drawing whines and gasps from the back of his throat. He used to love the way Mark was only rough by accident, hands squeezing his hips and producing bruises or teeth mistakenly scraping flesh too hard. He never wanted to hurt Donghyuck, but here Donghyuck is hurting from the simplest touch.

His hands slide beneath Mark's shirt and run across a strong torso, hot to the touch. Mark has always been warm, and Donghyuck would joke about they didn't need to pay the heating bill as the boy could just lay on him and he'd be comfortably warmed. Now his skin seems to burn Donghyuck's palms, fiery and sharp to the point of tears pooling in his eyes.

He ignores them and works on sliding Mark's shirt up, bunching it by his arms so he can move his mouth to his abdomen and trail messy, uncoordinated kisses across it, inflicting the occasional bruise that has Mark hissing out curses above him.

"Christ baby," He breathes, grip loosening so he can card his fingers through messy auburn hair instead. "Feels so good."

Donghyuck, a certified Mark Lee pleaser, constantly wanted to make him feel good. He wanted to give himself the satisfaction that came with providing pleasure and bliss to who was not only his boyfriend but his best friend.

Now, Donghyuck so desperately wants to make himself feel anything at all.

Frustrated, he yanks the boy's shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor before kissing him again. Mark secures his hand around the back of his neck and holds him in place, giggling that stupid laugh into his mouth.

"Shut up and let me kiss you," Donghyuck mutters, partly joking but also very serious.

"Yes sir." Mark stifles his giggles, interlocking their lips and allowing Donghyuck to bite at his bottom one.

The sheets are cold and Mark is still so hot as they fumble around with clothing, letting garments fall to the rug haphazardly. The more clothes he loses the more exposed Donghyuck feels, as if the thoughts clouding his brain are written out on his skin for Mark to see. If they are, he doesn't acknowledge a single thing, his body hovering over Donghyuck as he grins down at him.

Donghyuck just watches him as he pulls his bruised bottom lip between his teeth, eyes lit up with exuberance and those little stars. He drops his head down to brush Donghyuck's neck with his nose, lips pressing a slow, sweet kiss right below his ear.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Donghyuck can never forget how those words sound coming from Mark's mouth. He's heard them almost every day for years, Mark constantly reminding him of the way he sees him. It never sounds forced or fake, and Donghyuck's heart would always jump when he heard it.

Mark would utter a "morning beautiful," against the pillow every day when they woke up together or would greet Donghyuck with that same phrase when one of them entered the kitchen while the other was making breakfast.

Whenever Donghyuck would leave, he'd receive a kiss on his cheek, and a sweet, "see you later beautiful," that would stick with him all day.

Whenever he would get dressed and enter the lounge, Mark would look up from whatever he was doing and the silliest grin would grace his face as he took the boy in, followed by, "you look so beautiful, baby."

Hearing it now makes Donghyuck feel sick. It makes the guilt rise to the surface and burn his throat as if begging to crawl out of his body. He swallows hard and cradles Mark against his neck, letting out the gentlest of moans as his head tilts back and hands secure onto his hips.

Donghyuck knows this feeling all too well. He remembers the two of them in his own bed countless times, skin flush against each other's as they tried to hush whimpers and moans through kisses, always ending up sweaty, giggly messes. Donghyuck remembers feeling so full of happiness that his heart could burst out of his chest.

As their hips rock together lazily, Mark whispering praises into his collar, Donghyuck feels nothing at all.

He doesn't realize he's crying until Mark stops moving completely and his hands are cupping Donghyuck's cheeks, voice coming out dry and broken.

"Hey, hey. Are you okay? Does something hurt?"

Donghyuck can't find the will to say that Mark is about to be the one hurting, his words bubbling up in his throat but coming out as nothing more than a weak cry.

"Hyuck, baby," The boy coos desperately, wiping his thumbs beneath wet eyes. "What's going on?"

Donghyuck traps a sob behind clenched teeth before blinking pathetically up at oh-so-concerned Mark. Mark, the epitome of comfort and warmth and home, and Donghyuck can barely get his words out.

"I don't think I love you anymore."

Mark was never much of a crier, and Donghyuck thinks it might be the only thing he didn't love about him. It always led to him bottling up his emotions and holding everything inside of him until he blew, and Donghyuck would have to watch him crack and crumble under too much pressure.

However, when he did cry, it always hurt Donghyuck more than he would anticipate. Most of the time he wasn't the reason, but right now he is and it makes him feel like he's about to be sick.

He's stuck laying there on a motel mattress as Mark, his boyfriend, his best friend, the boy he planned on loving forever, slowly begins to crack as his words sink in. He doesn't say anything, just parts his swollen lips and breathes out slowly, arms beginning to shake as he holds himself up.

"I'm sorry," Donghyuck whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as the body above him quickly drops, landing on the mattress beside him.

Mark is eerily quiet and the guilt eating at Donghyuck from the inside out doesn't seem to lessen at all as he opens his eyes to find Mark staring ahead of himself, eyes usually full of stars now red-rimmed and teary and so defeated.

It hurts more than anything Donghyuck has ever felt in his life, but he can't take it back. He won't, because now that it's out in the air it feels truer than he imagined. He doesn't feel like he was overreacting, or overthinking. It feels so scarily real.

"I'm so sorry," He tries again and watches Mark's hands tighten into fists.

"Don't."

"Mark—"

"Don't. Please." He begs shakily, fingers loosening reluctantly to instead grip the cool sheets. Mark has never been one to get angry, and Donghyuck can't believe that not even something like this could make him yell, or curse, or throw something.

He just sits there on the bed, chin hitting his chest and eyes shutting lightly as he drags a breath in.

"How long?"

"Mark," Donghyuck sits up slowly, shaking his head.

The boy's teeth grind together and he opens his eyes to stare at Donghyuck as if begging.

"Tell me how long."

"I don't know...a couple of months maybe."

Mark let's out a sob, his shoulders dropping pathetically. "So you've been lying to me? For however long this shit's been going on, you've been lying?"

Donghyuck shakes his head a little faster this time, guilty tears spilling down his cheeks. He can't explain to Mark what he's been feeling or thinking, but he doesn't want him to believe that Donghyuck has been false with him in any way. Everything he's done and said has been so genuine but has left him feeling in conflict.

He's had this burning inside himself quietly for so long, only becoming too painfully obvious at the worst of times.

"I never lied to you, Mark. I did love you, I swear to god I loved you with everything in me."

"So what changed?"

"You? Me?" Donghyuck struggles for a reason for his change of heart. "I don't know, all I know is that things feel different."

"They don't to me," Mark states flatly, his facade of toughness so obviously wavering right in front of Donghyuck.

He swallows hard. "I'm not you."

Mark's mouth falls open just slightly, a weak sound of pain tumbling from it as his big, watery eyes blink quickly to let tears escape. Donghyuck feels as if his heart is in pieces in his chest but he doesn't say anything else, just gets up from the bed and tries to avoid looking at Mark as he redresses himself.

"Are you—you're not—Donghyuck wait please." He chokes out, shaky fingers latching onto Donghyuck's wrist to stop him from going anywhere.

He spins around to face him, waiting for only a second before dropping onto his lap and kissing him harder than he ever has before. His hands press to Mark's cheeks and the boy sobs into his mouth, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as if trying to pull Donghyuck right into him.

Donghyuck's hands hold the boy's head as his drag across his torso, before travelling to his face. Mark's fingers touch everywhere, his chin, his cheeks, his ears, as if he's trying to imprint the way Donghyuck feels in his mind.

As if he knows he won't get to touch him again.

"I love you, I love you," He gasps out through tears, and Donghyuck can taste salt in his mouth when he breaks away as Mark's sobs intensify to the point of choking. It pulls at every ounce of sympathy he has, but he can't bring himself to say it back. He refuses to lie to him, so he settles for the truth.

"I know," He whispers, stroking his hand over the boy's reddened cheek.

Mark shuts his eyes and leans into his touch, crying harder than Donghyuck has ever seen. His face is a mess of snot and tears and he looks like he wants to scream as he clenches his teeth and loops his fingers around Donghyuck's wrist loosely. He holds back his own tears as he leans in and rests his forehead against the other's, breathing out a slow breath before planting his lips between his brows.

"I loved you more than anyone, Mark Lee." He whispers, his other hand intertwining with Mark's for a brief moment. "Please don't ever forget that."

Mark just nods. Donghyuck doesn't expect anything else from him, and it would be selfish of him to do so. He doesn't really know what to do now, and he has nothing more to say, so he just stands again and turns around, walking away from the person who has been his life for so long that Donghyuck has trouble remembering who he was before him.

All he knows now is that he doesn't really know anything anymore, or how the fuck to get home.


End file.
